


Welcome to Can Town

by Meercatwhisperer112



Category: Homestuck, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angels, Crack, F/F, Gen, Pilot Episode, Wandering Vagabond's secret police say you must read this, crack fic?, else the librarians will come for you, homestuck-stuck?, what do you want from me?, wtf do I even tag this?, yeah it's probably crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:10:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2860202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meercatwhisperer112/pseuds/Meercatwhisperer112
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An apathetic seaside community where the sun is deadly, the moons are inhabited, and mysterious lights pass overhead as we all pray for our lives. Welcome to Can Town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to Can Town

**Author's Note:**

> You can't really tell in the actual fic, but Calliope is Cecil C:  
> I'm probably come back in the morning and edit the shit out of this, but for now I'm happy. I basically took a transcript of the WTNV pilot episode and rewrote it for homestuck. T'was amusing.

An apathetic seaside community where the sun is deadly, the moons are inhabited, and mysterious lights pass overhead as we all pray for our lives. Welcome to Can Town.

Hello listeners. To start things off, I’ve been asked to read this brief notice: his Honourable Tyranny announces the opening of a new dog park at the corner of Impossible Yardstick, near the Green Sun. Dogs are not allowed in the dog park. Humans and trolls are not allowed in the dog park. It is possible you will see dog-like creatures in the dog park. This is Jade. Do not approach her. Do not approach the dog park. The fence is electrified and highly dangerous. Try not to look at the dog park, and especially do not look for any extended period of time at Jade. The dog park will probably cull you.

And now, the news.

His Royal Highness Eridan, out near the sand break, says the angels revealed themselves to him; said they were ten feet tall, radiant, and absolute assholes; said they tried to kill him with various household items. One of them threw a light bulb at his head. He’s offering to sell the old light bulb, which has been touched by an angel. It was the biggest asshole, if that sweetens the pot for anyone. If you’re interested, contact His Royal Highness Eridan. He’s out near the sand break.

A new human came into town today. Who is she? What does she want from us? Why her perfect and beautiful haircut? Why her perfect and beautiful coat? She says she is a scientist. Well, we have all been scientists at one point or another in our lives. But why now? Why here? And just what does she plan on doing with all those beakers of alcohol in the lab that she is renting- the one next to Gamzee’s Pie Shop. No one does a slice like Gamzee. No one.

Just a reminder to all the lusii out there: let’s talk about safety when taking your wigglers out to play in the dream bubbles and the outer ring. You need to give them plenty of water, make sure there’s a defensive weapon in the area, and keep an eye on sprite colours. Are the unhelpful sprites circling the area orange? Probably Strider’s agents. Not a good area for play that day. Are they blue? That’s the Friendleader’s Nana. She’ll keep a good eye on your kids, and hardly ever take one. Are they a disjointed combination of multiple trolls? No one knows what those sprites are, or what they want. Do not play in this area. Return to your home, and remain armed until a Mayor's Secret Policeman leaves a Tab on your porch to indicate that the danger has passed. Cover your ears to blot out the screams. Also, remember: troll blood is for rainbow drinkers only, so give your wiggler plain old water, and maybe some grub loaf while they play.

A ship belonging to Her Imperious Condescension flying through local airspace disappeared today, only to reappear in the Can Town Elementary Gymnasium during basketball practice, disrupting practice quite badly. The ship roared through the small gym for only a fraction of a second, and before it could strike any players or structure, it vanished again, this time apparently for good. There is no word yet on if or how this will affect Can Town Consorts game schedule, and also, if this could perhaps be the work of their bitter rivals the Green Felt Leprechauns. Green Felt is always trying to show us up through fancier uniforms, better culling techniques, and possibly by transporting a royal ship into our gymnasium, delaying practice for several minutes at least. For shame, Green Felt. For shame.

That new scientist we now know is named Roxy called a town meeting. She has an angled jaw and teeth like a military cemetery. Her hair is perfect, and we all hate and despair and love that perfect hair in equal measure. His Royal Highness Eridan brought corn muffins, which were decent, but lacked salt. He said the angels had taken his salt because they’re all assholes, and he hadn’t yet got round to buying more. Roxy told us that we are, by far, the most scientifically interesting community in Paradox Space, and she had come to study just what is going on around here. She grinned, and everything about her was perfect, and I fell in love instantly. Strider agents from a vague, yet menacing agency, were in the back watching. I fear for Roxy. I fear for Can Town. I fear for anyone caught between what they know and what they don’t yet know that they don’t know.

We received a press release this morning. The Can Town High Blood Association is proud to announce the opening of a brand new Can Town Harbour and Waterfront Recreation Area. I have been to these facilities myself recently on their invitation, and I can tell you that it is absolutely top of the line and beautiful. Sturdy docking areas made from eco-friendly recycled carapace shells, a boardwalk for non-seadwellers, and plenty of stands ready for local food merchants and vendors to turn into an overcrowded public marketplace. Now there is some concern about the fact that, given that most of the highblood’s are pirates, the waterfront isn’t very safe- and that is a definite drawback, I agree. For instance, the boardwalk is currently overlooking the corpses of those forced to walk the plank. The Highblood Association did not provide any specific remedies for this problem, but they assured me that they would keelhaul me themselves if I made an issue of it. Maybe wait until they’re away looting and head down for a safer waterfront experience.

The local chapter of the Midnight Crew is selling bumper stickers as part of their fundraising week. They sent the station one to get some publicity, and we’re here to serve the community so I’m happy to let you know all about it. The stickers are made from good, sturdy troll skin, and they read ‘Clocks Kill People; It’s Absolutely Possible To Be Killed By A Clock; Time Is Our Enemy And We Should Smash It When We Can.” Stand outside your door with an offering of knives to order one.

Roxy and her team of scientists warn that one of the pumpkins in the nutritionblock farms, out back of the abandoned schoolfeed centre, doesn’t actually exist. It totes seems like it exists, explained Roxy and her perfect hair, like it’s just chilling right there, existing and stuff, when you look at it. And it’s between two hella normal pumpkins, so it would make more sense for it to be there than not. But, she says, I’ve done my mad wicked voidy things on it, and the pumpkin is definitely not there. At news time, the scientists are stood around the nonexistent pumpkin, wondering if Gamzee can still make it into pie.

A great howling was heard from the Can Town Post Office yesterday. Postal workers claim no knowledge, although passer-bys described it as being a little like a lower order carapace accepting the White Queen’s ring. The Horse Fanatic- now, I don’t know if you’ve seen this guy around. He’s the one with the orange skin, who’ll try to kiss anybody and claims to be able to ride his broom like a pony- he appeared on the scene, and swore that he would discover the truth. No one responded because it’s really hard to take him seriously with that broom of his.

Lights, seen in the sky above palace. Not the glowing bricks of the palace; something higher and beyond that. We know the difference. We’ve caught onto their game. We understand the lights-above-palace’s game. Stars created by Karkat himself. Humans and trolls, the feelings are here, but our Friendleader is Not A Homosexual.

Roxy and her scientists at the monitoring station near Route 413 say their seismic monitors have been indicating weird seismic shifts, meaning to say that our town should be ricocheting through space at greater than the speed of light. I don’t know about you, folks, but light could still beat me in a race any day. Roxy says they’ve double-checked their monitors and they are in perfect working order. To put it plainly, we seem to be lost somewhere in the void of deep space and absolutely no one has noticed. Well, submit an insurance claim anyway; see what you can get, right?

Traffic time, listeners. Now, police are issuing warnings about ghost cars out on the highways, those cars belonging to Aradia Megido and her many counterparts (all of whom, I feel I should add, lost their licenses last month yet are still driving). They would like to remind you that you should not set your speed by these anarchists, and doing so is likely to get you abducted by a mysterious Strider agent. However, they do say that it’s probably safe to match speeds with whatever sprites are flying overhead, as whatever shady entities or organisation are responsible appear to be cautious and reasonable drivers.

And now, [the weather](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IWcb2pdgZTc)

Welcome back, listeners.

The sun didn’t set at the correct time today, Roxy and her team of scientists report. They are quite certain about it. They checked multiple clocks, and the sun definitely set ten minutes later than it was supposed to. I asked them if they had any explanations, but they were still recovering from their encounter with the Midnight Crew. Mostly they sat in a circle around a smashed clock, weeping and stitching up wounds. Still, we must be grateful to have the sun at all; it’s easy to forget with so many dead or blinded, but things would actually be slightly harder for us without the sun. The next time the sun rises, take a moment out from cowering to feel grateful for the many defectors it punishes annually.

The Denizen Council would like to remind you about the Deceased Heavens and the Attitude of Angels. The reminder is that you should not know anything about this. The nature of Double Death and the angel’s collective assholishness are privileged information known only on a Denizen-to-Hero basis. Please; do not speak to any angels you meet while chilling near the Sand Break or visiting the Serket FLARPING centre. They are douechebags who tell lies and do not exist. Report all angel sightings to Kanaya Maryam for treatment.

And now for a brief public service announcement. Jack. Can he kill your children? Yes.

Along those lines, to get personal for a moment, I think the best way to die would be destruction of the universe through Snowman’s death. Knowing at the moment that you perish, that all other life forms in existence are doing the same, would bring a great sense of satisfaction.

Speaking of the Serket FLARPING Centre, it’s co-owner, Aranea Serket, reports that she has found the entrance to a vast underground city behind the stack of shitty swords in aisle five. She said she has not yet ventured into it, but has done some research on its inhabitants, and it’s really quite fascinating. She reports of their complex courtship rituals, the structure of their government and the application of their laws, but remains silent when asked about their motives. Apparently the entrance was discovered when a broken eight ball accidentally rolled into it, clattering down to the city below with sounds that echoed for miles across the impossibly huge cavern- so, you know, whatever population that city has: they know about us now, and we might be hearing from them very soon.

Roxy, perfect and beautiful, came into our studios during the break earlier, but declined to stay for an interview. She had some sort of martini glass in hand, filled with fruit and ice shards. Said she was testing the place for potential. I don’t know what sort of potential she meant, but she sure whistled and giggled a lot whenever I said anything. When I tried to make a joke, well, it sounded like a small baby monkey being tickled. Roxy looked nervous. I’ve never seen that kind of look on someone with that angled a jaw. She left in a hurry. Told me to come over for drinks later. But then, who would be here to talk sweetly to all of you out there? Settling in to be another clear night and pretty evening in Can Town. I hope all of you out there survive it, or at least have someone close to kiss you back to life.

Good night, listeners. Good night.

**Author's Note:**

> Sleep? haha, why would I sleep when I can write weird shit like this at an ungodly hour?


End file.
